You dash across the street and into a clothing store. It's loaded with racks of clothing, and you rest your hands on your knees breathing after your run. You hear a clerk rummaging among the clothing on the rack on the other side of where you are resting.
"I'm sure I've got just the thing you're looking for right here, somewhere," mutters the clerk.
Hangers scratch the metal. She reaches through the clothes to the other side of the rack, and her hand touches your bare arm. Your skin quivers and folds into her grasp. Your body suddenly feels empty, you sag, and collapse empty inside. You're just a garment in the saleswoman's hands. She grins and holds you up for her customer to see...